


Value

by MightWriter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, John's chair, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9591245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightWriter/pseuds/MightWriter
Summary: Sherlock thinks about how much John means to him.





	

Sherlock Holmes was not one for questioning the bane of his existence. That being said, right now he was doing just that.

His flatmate, John Watson, a short, retired army doctor with a surprisingly helpful skill set and an addiction to danger, was sat across from him. This may seem ordinary, but the longer Sherlock Holmes sat in his armchair across from the man, the more his mind began to run.

The chair which John now sat in-that which John had sat in hundreds of times prior to this point- used to hold little to no value to Sherlock. It had been a dull piece of furniture among other dull pieces of furniture in a dingy flat. Now, the chair, accompanied by a threadbare cushion and a tartan blanket, held a deep sentimental value to the detective. That chair embodied the doctor better than even the most talented author could do. It was a strange thought to Sherlock, how a simple chair could become something so meaningful.

And then there was the man himself. The main cause for Sherlock's afternoon questioning. Sherlock was not a good man by any standards. That he knew, although the idea did not bother him like it would any other man. John was the reason for this. As long as John was willing to put up with the taller man's ridiculous nature, then he could cope. This realisation used to hit him strongly, but now it had come to him so many times that he smiled fondly. 

John saw the beginnings of his smile from above the newspaper in his hands. 

"What are you smiling at?" 

John's question was gentle, careful not to break the peace which had settled this afternoon. Even the sun outside shone into the room in such a way that it did not become an annoyance to the men. Mrs Hudson had been out all weekend.

Sherlock rolled his shoulders, his long limbs stretching languidly as he basked in the sunshine across his back. Eventually he settled back into his seat.

"You."

A simple answer. Yet it held more weight than a lengthy, articulated response. John smiled at his boyfriend softly as he placed the newspaper down, gesturing for Sherlock to join him.

Sherlock did. He clambered onto his boyfriend's lap, flailing arms soon settling and giggles dying down until peace returned. No worries plagued them, not when they stayed curled up all evening without breaking the silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :) check out my tumblr @shurplepurpofsex


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